


Here, take my hand

by Elijah_Dentwood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Thumb-sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elijah_Dentwood/pseuds/Elijah_Dentwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam's upset, he's comforted by sucking Dean's thumb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here, take my hand

He's so young when it starts. Dean gives him his hand to hold, because he's scared. Sam studies the lines of Dean's palm, the light blue of the veins on the back of his hand. When the screams start he presses Dean's hand against his mouth. Dad's told them to stay in the closet, not to come out until he opens the door. Not to make a sound. The screaming doesn't stop and when Sam starts to whimper Dean jams his thumb between Sam's lips. He sucks at it because it's all he can do to stop himself. Dean's thumb has a slightly bitter taste, like fear-sweat. 

It's a comfort that never leaves Sam, it's one that his mind seeks out instinctively. If Dean's not around he sticks his own thumb in his mouth and nips at the pad with his teeth, but it's not the same.

Now Bobby's dead and they're both floored. The impala is pulled over and they both stare ahead through the windscreen, not knowing how to start. 

'Sam,' Dean says. His voice is gravelly and raw, Sam knows he's got nothing. He's just as broken by this. He lets his hands slip off the impala and looks over at him.

Sam can't speak, so he shifts closer to Dean and curls into him and picks up Dean's hand. He turns it over and stares at the lines that cross his palm. Sam doesn't know if anyone can really read the past and future in someone's hand, but if they can, Dean's must be a sight to behold. He trails his fingers over the bumps of Dean's knuckles and pulls the hand up to his mouth. 

Dean's frowning but he doesn't say anything. Sam thinks he'll break if Dean pulls his hand away. He moves Dean's thumb against his lips, making them part and close again. The flesh of Dean's thumb is rough and his nail is short and jagged. 

Sam swirls his tongue around the tip of Dean's thumb, tasting a mixture of metal, sweat and something sugary. Once he's slid it into his mouth it's as though the world has dissolved; it's him and Dean, and things are okay. Dean's looking at him with a strange sort of expression – somewhere between love and pity. 

Sam shifts Dean's thumb so that it pokes against the ridges of his palette and his teeth lightly touch the base. It curves so perfectly, rests against his tongue so easily that Sam wonders if his mouth has deliberately formed this way to get the most from this. 

When he eventually pulls Dean's thumb out of his mouth it's shiny with spit. Dean wipes it off casually on his jeans and puts his hand back on the steering wheel. 

'C'mon Sammy, let's get back to the motel.'


End file.
